Devil in the Detail by A.J. Cross (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗

held out a sheet of A4. ‘Kumar’s sent the contact details you asked for.’

As Jones left, he skimmed them, recognizing a name. He reached for the phone, rang the probation office number and waited.

‘Hello, Leila. Bernard Watts. I’m interested in one of your clientele.’ He picked up the smile in her voice.

‘Really? Which one would that be, from a case load stretching from here to forever?’

‘Jonah Budd.’

‘Oh? Why the interest in Jonah?’

‘His name has cropped up. Is he seeing you regularly?’

‘Like clockwork. Never late. I’m seeing him this afternoon, as a matter of fact.’

‘Can I drop in and see you before he arrives?’

‘No problem. His appointment is at three.’

‘I’ll be there at two thirty.’

EIGHT

Thursday 6 December. 2.35 p.m.

Leaving Judd mutinously gathering investigative data Brophy had demanded, Watts was facing Leila Kendal, absorbing her take on Jonah Budd.

‘Jonah is a young man with a hell of a lot more going for him than most of my clients. He’s intelligent, he attended college, completed a course in physical education and was a regular member at an inner-city gym. Until 2014, when he was arrested for a series of very well-planned carjackings about a mile or so from the Bristol Road interchange. Does any of that help?’

‘It might. How about before or since?’

‘Nothing known before. Since then, he’s stolen cash from some of the casual jobs he’s had, which is why he’s still on my list.’

‘What’s he up to now?’

‘He’s twenty-four, currently unemployed, although our records show him to be “actively seeking employment”.’ She studied Watts. ‘You’re interested in him because of last month’s carjackings plus a double shooting?’ She opened the file in front of her. ‘Jonah is all that I’ve said.’

‘I’m hearing a “but”.’

‘You are. He’s also weak, over-indulged, the youngest by miles of four brothers. The wider family dotes on him and his mother is more than ready to spoil him even further at every opportunity. As a consequence, Jonah continues to lack the impetus to act responsibly. He knows he has a safety net. That his family will support him, no matter what he does. What else can I tell you? His family doesn’t approve of his lawbreaking but the way they deal with him is probably a strong signal to him that, where they’re concerned, he can get away with anything. Like I said, over-indulged.’ She turned a few pages. ‘His sentence for the carjackings was twelve months in Young Offenders. On his release, he looked me straight in the eye and swore he wouldn’t reoffend. Which is always nice to hear, even for a case-hardened realist like me. I’ve already mentioned his subsequent thefts.’

‘Tell me about the carjackings he committed.’

‘There were four’ – she met Watts’ eyes – ‘as far as we know. During the second attack, he struck the female driver on the shoulder with the hammer he’d used to smash her window. He still emphatically denies hitting her, by the way.’

Watts’ interest grew at this confirmation of Budd using a weapon during one of his offences. ‘You’ve known him a while. What’s the bottom line with him, as far as you’re concerned?’

She shrugged. ‘He keeps his appointments with me. He’s always appropriately dressed. He says the right things.’ She paused and looked directly at Watts. ‘And all the time I’m wondering what’s behind the face he’s showing me.’

‘Does he have a speech problem?’ Seeing her surprise, he added, ‘A lisp?’

‘No.’ She checked her watch. ‘He’s probably here now. Do you want to have a word with him?’

Watts stood. ‘I might at some stage, but not today. I know you’re busy but if you think of anything else, learn anything about him that you think we should know, would you email it to headquarters for my attention?’

Reaching the building’s entrance on his way out, Watts heard the receptionist call, ‘Mr Budd? You can go in now.’

He turned and watched a young, well-dressed male get up and head for the room he himself had just left.

Watts jogged to the BMW in an icy downpour. Once inside, he read the information the probation officer had given him on the four carjackings committed by Budd. Seeing again the reference to Budd’s use of a hammer on one victim, he knew he couldn’t discount him for the November cases. Watching crystalized rain run down the windscreen, he switched his thinking to the Lawrence shootings. Shootings which had left a man dead, a woman injured, their child lost. The stakes in this case were the highest. He had umpteen official guidelines for the homicide investigation alone. Despite Traynor’s opinion of a lack of connection between the shootings and the November carjackings, Budd’s name was now tugging at him as a possibility for both, and he wasn’t about to be deflected by a lack of lisp. Not yet, anyway. Watts’ natural caution kicked in. It was still early days for the Lawrence case. He thought back to cases he knew of, in which senior officers got an early suspect in their sights who seemed to fit so well that they ended up blinkered to other possibilities. He wouldn’t go down that road with Budd or any other name that might crop up. But neither would he give up on him until he was satisfied that Budd didn’t figure in either the carjackings or the shootings.

He reached down and pulled his homicide file from under his seat. He created a file for every homicide case he headed, and this one was maintained by Judd. He opened it and looked at the list of every decision he’d made to date, plus copies of every document, witness statement and evidence find and forensic result, including the known CCTV timeline. None of it had so far provided a specific lead. There was one person who could do that but right now she was in no fit state to tell them anything.

He gazed across at the probation offices. Even though Traynor wasn’t seeing any connection between the November carjackings and the Lawrence shootings, he knew that